I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. That register would be easy to get at; comforting thought. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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